


afterall

by ameliajessica



Category: 10 Cloverfield Lane (2016)
Genre: Emmett Still Dies, F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameliajessica/pseuds/ameliajessica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She realises her need to be close to him isn’t just  because he’s any person, but because he’s Emmett.</p>
            </blockquote>





	afterall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merines/gifts).



> this is dedicated to francia, mi amor

Michelle picks up the guitar she finds behind the jukebox. “Oh my god,” she says slowly. “ _Emmett_.”

“Well, well,” he says with a slow grin.

“Did you ever learn?”

“No,” she says, plucking lightly at the strings. “I did cello to get into college but my heart was never into it. Did you?”

He clears his throat. The tips of his ears go pink. “There was a girl. In high school. I learnt one song, to impress her. She was dating this asshole jock and I thought the gift of song would be the one thing to put me over. Didn’t work. He punched me.”

“What was her name?”

“Jenny.” Michelle thinks to herself that she couldn’t think of a more small town name if she tried. Which sounds mean, maybe, but she can just picture it. Emmett as tall as he in now, but skinny as anything and enamoured with this girl, pretty and sweet as apple pie, hanging off the arm of some broad football player.

“What song did you learn?”

Emmett pulls a face, begging Michelle for something. After seeing she won’t relent, he groans, picking up the guitar and smirking as he strummed some chords. Michelle recognises them immediately.

“Stop, stop!” she laughs, partially because she honestly can’t stand the song but also because there’s no guarantee that Howard isn’t going to be hovering behind them, there to swiftly put an end to their fun. Emmett continues to tease her, strumming a few more chords, so she places her hand over his.

Without thinking, she slides their fingers together. The mirth in his gaze turns to something more serious and his eyes roam over her face hungrily. It takes noticing his shortness of breath to realise her own. He starts to lean forward and then deliberately stops, watching for her reaction. Something he finds there makes him exhale something not unlike a laugh, and he tugs on her hand to pull her towards him.

Kissing had been the last thing on her mind the past few months, and in many ways this one feels like it’s her first. She’s clumsy – confused. But eager. Emmett doesn’t let go of her hand, but he uses his free one to cup her jaw, to hold her there. It feels good to be touched, and wanted. Unbidden, Ben pops into her mind and the guilt of using Emmett to cure her loneliness makes her jerk back.

“I’m – I’m,” she begins to say but Emmett’s already smiling kindly at her, shaking his head.

“It’s fine,” he says, with such sincerity that it makes her heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” she says, inexplicably saddened by him gently untangling their hands.

“Ain’t no thing, Michelle,” he says easily, patting her knee amicably and getting to his feet.

He goes to bed early that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She’s not really sure when but over the next few days the decision makes itself.

It’s not like she hadn’t thought of it. Of Emmett, in that way. Once she’d established he wasn’t a nutjob in the way that Howard was, or a dumb hick like she had shamefully assumed on their first encounter, she had begun to genuinely like him. She liked the way that despite everything, he was so relaxed. He kept her calm. Whenever a panic attack was clawing its way up her throat it was like he knew when to be there, to distract her with a stupid joke or absurd story about his adolescence.

It becomes necessary to stop herself from touching him – like, it develops into a conscious effort. Unlike what she had thought the night they kissed, she realises her need to be close to him isn’t just  because he’s any person, but because he’s _Emmett_. Because of the little things, the little _risks_ he’s willing to take for her – minimising her contact with Howard; always sitting between them on the couch, or offering his help before Howard can ask for hers; forcing his attention on him whenever she slips up and triggers Howard’s anger. She’s still frightened of showing him any affection in front of Howard but Emmett – Emmett is brave.

(It’s not obvious, of course – he’s brave, but he’s not stupid.)

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh no, we’ll clear the table tonight, Howard,” she says as he reaches over for her plate, forcing nonchalance into her voice. She can feel Emmett wanting to look at her questioningly but instead he glances from her to Howard and nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “We’ll wash up and all.”

Howard frowns, making Michelle’s heart stutter and she blurts out, “I mean, it’s only fair. You made dinner. You shouldn’t have to do all the work.”

Howard’s gaze goes between them for a brief second and he nods to himself. “All right. I’m going to take a shower. Wait until I’m done to turn on the water.”

She waits till she can hear the shower running in Howard’s room. Emmett has gotten up and is whistling to himself, piling all the dishes in the sink. When Howard starts singing over the water, Michelle strides over determinedly to Emmett. He’s turned around to crack the same joke he always does about Howard’s warbling but stops when he sees her in front of him.

She knocks off his hat.

For a few moments he mumbles incoherently, eyes wide. Before she can lose her nerve, she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him. It has enough force to push him back against the sink, his hands scrambling for purchase.

Then, just as quickly as she’s pulling back. Emmett looks like he’s been woken up from a deep sleep.

“Okay?” she says, somewhat uncertain.

“Mi _chelle_ ,” he laughs breathlessly, settling his hands on her hips. “You never have to ask that.”

Her heart stutters again, but for much more warm, delirious reasons. Closing her eyes, she rests her forehead against his. Without Howard singing in the background, it could feel like just the two of them having a quiet moment to themselves. Emmett’s nudges her nose with his and moves his mouth over hers again. His arms go around her back and she curls into him. It feels like her whole body is sighing.

He pulls away first, somewhat suddenly. Her hands had just been finding the hair at the back  of his neck. At her questioning look, Emmett smiles and gives her one last peck. “Someone’s clean,” he says, jerking his head back.

Howard’s door squeaks as he pops his head out but Michelle is by the jukebox, and Emmett flicking through a magazine.

 

 

 

 

 

“When it’s finished... I’m going to stay behind,” she murmurs, curled up against his armpit, their backs to the wall. “You’re going to wear the suit and get help.”

“Michelle,” he says protests. He sits up, sliding her off his arm to look at her with wide-eyes.

“If you stay behind, he’ll think you helped me and he’ll kill you,” she shoots back. “And I’m not coming back to your corpse.”

Emmett swallows, but doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“He likes me,” Michelle goes on, trying to smile reassuringly but unable to twist her face into anything other than a grimace.

“That’s what I’m scared of,” Emmett says seriously.

“It’s what’ll keep me safe,” she reminds him. His jaw tightens and his hands become fists.

For a few beats neither of them say anything. Emmett staring her down, Michelle standing her ground. Pain flickers through his expression but she barely has time to catch it before he’s leaning forward, sitting between her legs and kissing her a little more desperately. She welcomes it, winding her hands in his hair and matching his urgency.

“I want... I want,” she breathes.

“I know,” he whispers back, against her skin, and she shivers.

“We can’t,” he says, sounding a little like he’s reminding himself too.

Michelle pulls back, catching her. She rests her forehead on his throat and undoes the first few buttons on his shirt. “Can’t we?” she murmurs.

“Mi _chelle_ ,” he groans.

Of course she knows full well he’s right. They’ve come this far, the suit almost ready. With a plan in motion for them, it could be over soon. All of it. There’s what to do when Emmett gets to the surface. They can’t risk losing themselves in each other, then having Howard bursting in to kill them both.

They have a shot. They have to take it.

(She convinces him to get to second base, though.)

 

 

 

 

 

“It was all me,” he says to Howard. The way he looks at Michelle tells her he didn’t listen to a damn word she said. He knew this was coming, and he had made the choice before she had said anything at all.

She wants to scream, beg for his life, but it’s too late, the gunshot noise ringing in her hears before she could even reach for Emmett. Howard pulls her too him and it’s mostly the shock that keeps her from clawing at any part of him she can touch. Once that wears off, it’s the knowledge that keeping coy is the only way she can still get out.

Emmett gave up his life for hers. She better make sure he did it for a reason.

 

 

 

 

 

 _Wonderwall_ comes on the radio as she’s driving away. She pulls over, rests her head on the steering wheel and allows herself to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think anyone even cares about this movie anymore but I scribbled most of this down just after seeing the movie and I only just got round to editing it *shrugs*. I hope someone in the world out there reads it


End file.
